Help Me
by Hannah the Emo Angel
Summary: Tweek Tweak was little. He was little, spazzy, twitchy, paranoid, and depressed. Everyone made fun of him. Everyone pushed him around, and laughed. Well, its not Tweeks fault he's like this. Its not his fault he has addictions. What he needs now, is his bestfriend. *Mentions of past self-mutilation! Minor Creek*


**Disclaimer: Nope**

**A/N: I might not have gotten the characteristics of Craig and Tweek correct, but oh well. And at the end, MAJOR FLUFF XP**

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Tweek Tweak was sitting on his bedroom floor, rocking back and forth. His head was buried in his knees, his hands on his head. His fingers wrapped around locks of his hair, pulling as hard as he could. He could hear the strands of hair breaking away from his scalp.

He was having a panic attack. Probably the third or forth. But that doesn't matter anymore. What he needs now, is his best friend.

Tweek pulled his phone out, dialing Craig's number. Once he dialed it, he pulled it up to his ear, and hoped.

It rang three times, then- "Hello?" Tweek sighed with relief, then started speaking.

"C-Craig? I-I- GAH!- need you to '_Ngh_' help me, please!" Tweek said, twitching wildly with fear.

Craig sighed on the other end. "With what, Tweek? I already checked your dresser, and your closet for underpants gnomes."

Tweek twitched again. "N-not the underpants gnomes, C-Craig.."

"Then with what? You need yo hurry, 'cause Red Racer's coming on soon." Craig said, impatiently.

Tweek fidgeted, angrily. It was always like Craig to put Red Racer before his best friend. It was like everybody to put everything before him.

But whatever.

Craig can do whatever the hell he wants. And if he wants to watch some stupid kids show, rather than help his bestfriend through a tough situation, then fine.

"Just forget it, Craig!" Tweek yelled in to the phone, hanging up right after. He then went back to hugging his knees, and cried.

No one cared about him. No ome cared about his feelings or thoughts. All they did was pretend. But they weren't the only ones pretending.

Tweek pretended everyday. He pretended not to be hurt by Cartman's insults, or pretended not to hear the laughter of children as he walked by. He pretended not to feel the bruises, and chise not to look at the cuts that he inflicted on his body. Its easier that way.

Tweek always wondered what death was like. It could be painful or painless. It could be quick or slow. Not that he ever considered the easy way out. Oh God... What of he decided to kill himself, then be sent to Hell where Satan would rape him? He would probably be forever tortured by the Underpants Gnomes! Thats way too much pressure!

Teeek let out a long breath, and stood up. His legs felt numb, because he's been sitting for so long. He went over to his bed, reaching under his pillow, and pulling out his Ipod.

He's cut back on cutting. People have started to notice. He accidently let Craig see one of his scars, once. It was during English class, and he didn't notice his sweatshirt sleeve packed down a little below his wrist, where lay three cuts.

Craig asked him what they were from. Tweek panicked, and couldn't think of anything fast enough, screaming "GAH! Too much pressure!" And Craig probably hated him now, for mutilating his body.

Craig responded with a worried glance, which is amazing, since he never has an expression on his face. He couldn't be worried for Tweek, could he? No. Thats just insane.

So now, Tweek had downloaded some heavy metal music, and listened. He reached over to his bedside tabled, and grabbed his coffee. He took a large gulp as he shuffled around on his Ipod, finally settling for a song called "The Death of Me" by Asking Alexandria.

After a few seconds of music, Tweek already knew it wasn't helping.

He, angrily, yanked his earbuds out of his ears, and threw his Ipod to the other sode of the room.

He turned around, so he was facing the wall. He siged deeply, and started banging his head as hard as he could against it. Why couldn't things ever be simple for him?

After about five minutes of banging his head, he heard Craig's voice call his name. Tweek thought it was his imagination, and proceeded to bang his head harder. But he kept hearing Craig's voice.

"Get outta my head!" Tweek screamed, hands reacing to grab some golden locks of his wild hair. He pulled hard. But before he could yank any out, his hands were grabbed, and pulled away from his head, causing Tweek to jump about three feet in the air.

"Jesus, Tweek..." The person muttered. Tweek instantly recognized the voice. Tweek opened his eyes to see Craig looking at him with worried, concerened eyes.

Tweek closed his eyes, again. "P-please '_Ngh_' don't hurt me, C-Craig..." He twitched. Craig just shook his head, and pulled Tweek in to his embrace.

Tweek seemed to calm down, somewhat. He buried his head in Craigs shoulder, feeling tears well up in his eyes. Craig just rubbed his back comfortingly.

After awhile, Tweek pulled back, looking at Craig in the eyes.

"Tweek?"

"GAH! What?"

"What were you doing before?"

"'_Ngh_' you probably hate my g-guts now, and I'll have no friends. Then die alone on the streets! GAH!" Tweek stated, frightened.

Craig just rolled his eyes. "Tweek, I don't hate you. I just wanted to know why you needed me to help you. Thats why I decided, that for once, I could skip Red Racer for a day. So I came here, and saw you hitting your head against the wall, and pulling your hair. Why were you doing that?" He asked, worridly, softly stroking Tweeks hair.

"GAH!" Tweek flinched. "I was doing it 'cause '_Ngh_' no one cares about me, and they all b-bully me, and YOU blow me off for Red Racer m-most of the time! ARGH, this is too much pressure!"

Craig watched the entire time, guilty and caringly. He buried his face in the crook of Tweek's neck, murmering apologies, telling him that he DOES care about him, and whoever continously bullies him, will have to go through a painful, bloody death.

And for now, thats enough.


End file.
